


The Three Convictions of Boyland

by Bramblepelt



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Gen, I honestly am unsure but I tried, Is this canon compliant?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9358382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bramblepelt/pseuds/Bramblepelt
Summary: His name........was Boyland. And if it meant stopping the world from being consumed by a powerful evil, he'd follow his dear friend to the end of the world. Or the moon, that worked too.





	

Boyland had always been a man of strong convictions, in that he strongly felt every person should have at least one conviction. Boyland had found many for himself throughout his life. He also had an unfortunate penchant for forgetfulness, and thus his convictions tended to change given the current environment and company. This was thought of by those who knew him best as a good character trait. Still, it had been frustrating to go through life not quite remembering which was what and who was when. 

So it was on that perfect summer day by the lake, watching his dozen or so youngest boys splashing and roughhousing, that he decided to pen down three rules to live his life by. He wouldn’t go so far as to suggest everyone should live their life by them, but if one were to ask he’d say it was a good idea. He put quill to parchment and slowly, deliberately wrote in the best penmanship of his life:

1\. The best cigars were dwarven made (though I admit some bias here).  
2\. Respect was a right, authority was a privilege.  
3\. The most important thing worth protecting in life was love in all its forms.

He waited the amount of time it took to finish one his favorite brands, a Zakhara red, to allow the ink to set. He then rolled the parchment and tied it carefully with a bit of twine he had in his satchel. He decided it would best be kept by his heart as a constant reminder of what was most important and let it live in the inner pocket of his vest. Borgo, one of his oldest, announced from the porch that supper was on the table, setting off a stampede of soaking wet tiny feet plodding their way to the vacation house. Boyland laughed under his breath and wondered how a man like himself could be so lucky.

Indeed, to have settled down into domestic life so easily after the tumultuousness of his youth felt like nothing less than luck. Only so many of his peers could say the same of their own fortune. Somehow once the war seemed over and the fighting had all but ceased he was able to put all of it behind him, once again a stunning side effect of his lifelong inconvenience. So thoroughly had he been able to move forward from this past, that Boyland almost did not recognize the tall and striking woman who had come calling at his home. 

Almost. It didn’t help that she appeared much older than he figure a human should. Or maybe much more time had passed than he previously thought? Still, it only took a few moments for her stern visage that contradicted gentle eyes to fill his mind with memories of a past he felt long abandoned. Her presence was a reminder of everything he had wanted to leave behind. He knew she felt the same way, thus if she was here it must mean dire times once again. 

“I’ve come here because you’re one of only a few that I trust enough to hold the fate of all the world in your hands.” She said over a mug of raspberry tea, two sugars. “Boyland, I need to know, would you follow me to the moon, even if it meant abandoning everything you hold dear?”

Boyland did not need to consider the question even for a moment. “Lucretia, you know I’d follow you to the ends of existence if it meant protecting something dear. Just say what you need.” He took a sip from his own mug, plain, perfectly sour.

“No I literally mean follow me to the moon. I’m setting up a base of operations there.” Lucretia answered.

“Oh. Well that changes everything.” he laughed, setting his mug down on the antique table. He waited a beat. “Oh, you’re serious.” his eyes widened in realization. Lucretia was known for her out there ideas that punctuated her leadership. Usually however they had some basis in reality. This was on a whole new level for her. He wondered how much time had in fact passed and if the human was becoming a bit eccentric in her age. 

“Deadly serious.” she said before finishing her cup. “There are forces the likes of which we’ve never had to face before. It’s power so strong and so evil we cannot predict when or even how it will consume the world. I need to find a way to fight it, Boyland. I...I can’t do it on my own.” she began fiddling with a ring on her hand. “And I cannot imagine successfully going about this without my most trusted confidant by my side. I’m sorry, I can’t say anything more while we’re here. It’s just too dangerous. But I can swear to you this: we will fight this darkness together and we will win.”

Boyland shrugged his shoulders and eyebrows in time and let out a gruff sigh. “If you can put a dwarf on the moon then I don’t see what’s stopping you from leading a war on the core of evil itself.” He poured her a second cup full before doing so for himself. “If anyone can I suppose it’d be you, Lucy.” He raised his mug to her before slamming the hot tea back like it was whiskey. He knew of anyone in all of Faerun he could trust her, saving the world was rather her thing.

 

His trust had not been misplaced, but really he never doubted that much. It was never a question of ‘could she’ but ‘how would she’ that plagued him. It turned out she would with the help of an incredibly intelligent woman who made camping out on the moon-well, rather a fake moon but still- seem like a trip to the park. Her name was Maureen, and the ins and outs of the ways of the universe came to her like breathing. She had a theoretical explanation for everything, as Boyland quickly learned. A question of ‘how exactly does this work?’ was met with a drawn out answer full of vocabulary he would swear she made up had she not been so confident in it all.

Maureen always had a young man close on her heels. Boyland could never get the hang of human age ranges but he guessed by his height and maturity he must’ve been in mid adolescence. The kid’s name was Lucas, and though his voice could be a bit grating and his attitude a tad insufferable he was just as intelligent as his mother and certainly pulled his weight when it came to space living. Boyland initially tried to make a good faith effort to bond with the kid, figuring he could use some sort of father figure influence, but was immediately rebuffed.

“Don’t think too poorly of him,” Maureen said to Boyland one evening over supper. “He’s very strong willed but he’s a good boy deep down.” The two spent the rest of the meal trading stories on the difficulties of raising children. Lucretia, who had recently taken on the title The Director, sat between the two of them and could only smile quietly at their tales. 

Seemingly almost no time passed between the Bureau existing as a small warehouse with a few cots before it turned into the base of operations Lucretia had dreamed of. The scope of the facility seemed to be in scale to their purpose: seemingly impossible. Yet here it was. 

It felt like new faces began arriving on a daily basis. But then that was a familiar feeling for Boyland. He tried his best to match names and faces. First there was the mechanic with a gentle smile. He was a good lad and Boyland enjoyed talking shop with him. Next came a musician who had apparently been hired to feed the giant squid Lucretia had been keeping. (She had explained the purpose of the whole thing to him more than once but he couldn’t understand why she needed to justify a flamboyant pet.) This kid seemed to be carrying some sort of unseen weight on his shoulders. Boyland could relate all too well, and knew the best way to converse with someone like that was not to pry but offer a good joke once in awhile. 

A shopkeeper, an artificer, and a drow wizard joined the ranks soon after. A scuffle between roles led to the creation of an HR department and the hiring of the most pleasant and affable orc anyone had ever met. Boyland found himself feeling rather lost in the bustle of recruitment. He knew now exactly what their mission entailed, but he couldn’t help but feel rather useless in the grand scheme of it all. So he was needed if someone fell prey to dark influences. That was all a well and good position to hold but what was he to do in the interim? And for that matter what was his purpose in the best case scenario which resulted in him never being needed?

The answer to all of his questions came in the form of an orc woman. Lucretia introduced her as a student with raw potential but a need for guidance. Killian proved eager to prove herself to a war hero and Boyland was more than happy to oblige the kid (they were all kids as far as he was concerned). Killian had the strength and determination that her race was known for but her enthusiasm made her focus unsteady. Boyland saw a lot of his oldest daughter Bamura in her. 

He quickly set a training schedule that focused on meditation and harnessing her emotions as a strength. He found her gung ho approach to fighting to be a byproduct of some underlying fear of failure. Killian agreed after several sessions of emotional discussions that she felt if she could just block out everything else and keep fighting she could win. 

“Picture your anxiety as a ball of silver energy.” he said calmly as she aimed her bow. “Don’t pull just yet, you don’t want to give your position away. Focus that energy into the bolt. You have one chance to rid yourself of it all but you have to be precise. When you know you have the shot, exhale, and pull.” Killian stayed still for several minutes, feeling shaky and wanting to just run in and shoot the targets. It was easier to run in. She knew it was all fake and she was in no real danger, not really, but Boyland could sense something deep and dark betraying her good sense. “Keep breathing Killy, steady, ground yourself. You have everything you need right where you are.” Killian exhaled and, with making barely a move, took the shot. Her bolt flew right into the head of the moving wooden target. Months and months of practice had finally paid off. Her face beamed with a huge smile as she took her mentor in for a tight hug.

“I knew you had it kid, told you, just keep focusing your thoughts like that you’ll be shooting steady every time.”

“Thanks Boyland. Hey. One request. Do you think we could maybe change the targets? I know you worked hard on these since I wrecked the last ones but I uh, I’m not a fan of shooting at ducks.”

“....Sure thing Killy.”

It wasn’t long after Killian began carrying herself with the calm aura of someone who knew what they were capable of and couldn’t be told otherwise. The two of them were considered equals and Boyland wouldn’t have it any other way. He wanted someone just as if not more competent than himself by his side. Particularly considering some of the questionable presences Lucretia had been bringing on board.

One personality of questionable background was a dragonborn woman with an appetite for picking pockets and locks in equal measure. It almost seemed like a habit more than anything done in ill will. Not a day went by she wasn’t accused of, or rarely caught, taking a wallet or sneaking into someone’s room. She always returned the things she took but it was still obnoxious. And this was the third member of Boyland’s team he was poised with taking on.

Her name was Carey, and her skills were obvious to anyone who so much as shook her hand. She required no specialized tactical training that Boyland felt he could offer. What he could offer, it turned out, was an open ear. If she wasn’t training her skills on unsuspecting bedrooms she would talk about them. Endlessly she would enthusiastically dive into every detail about the perfect distraction technique for any situation or the niche purpose of every instrument in her 105 piece lock picking set. This method of bonding with his new teammate seemed to work easily between the two of them. Killian, who preferred the quiet of the training gym, not so much.

Boyland knew he had to find something that could bring his team together as a unit. Cigars were his first thought, but he remembered not every race had the same appreciation for a finely rolled indulgence as he did. Better to play it safe with something easy, simple, something that could be useful for both of their skill sets. Something they could all take on together.

“Knitting?” Killian asked with a giggle. “Isn’t that for like, grandmas? Not that I’m being judgey, I love my grandma, but that seems kind of...well we’re warriors aren’t we? What’s knitting going to accomplish for us?”

“I agree with Killian,” Carey said. “Seems like a time sink. What’s got yarn crafting on your mind Boyland?”

The dwarf answered by placing an open book on the table and pointing at a diagram of yarn looping over a needle.

“No no you’re right, I suppose this does seems rather distracting. What with the difficulty curves and all.” Boyland got a pair of needles and some blue yarn ready. “Still, one can never have too many skills I like to say.” He tried to emulate the way the yarn formed a loop in the picture but somehow kept failing to knot it around the stick.

“Oh, no no, wait, Boyland, see, this part should be on top, that’s where you’re goofing up.” Carey switched the piece around for him.

“And the tail looks like it should be longer. I think? Let me try.” Killian grabbed the second set and a yellow yarn ball. “I’m not fooled by the way, I know you just want us to do something together. But that’s okay.”

“Yeah, looks fun actually. Sure, I’m willing to try.” Carey shrugged her shoulders and joined in. Hours passed while the three helped each other solve the mystery of casting on, knit or purl, and what to do when a stitch dropped. The rhythmic pattern of pulling string through knot was almost intoxicating. Killian found herself completely relaxed and more than happy to talk with her new teammate. Boyland found their conversation had gotten away from him as they began chatting and giggling about brothers and pastries and favorite blade manufacturers. Boyland could swear a hint of a blush had crawled over Killy’s cheeks when Carey complimented her ponytail. He quietly went back to his scarf and gave himself a pat on the back for an excellent team building exercise. 

 

 

The moment they dreaded had finally come, too soon. A seeker had gone rogue. Lucretia gathered the three into her office. She looked a bit shaken up to Boyland but easily composed herself. Magic Brian found the gauntlet and was trying to claim it as his own. This was exactly what they feared, and they were only on the first artifact. 

“I only want one of you to go.” Lucretia ordered. “We don’t know what the current status is and I can’t risk all three of you.” Boyland wanted to object. He had spent so long getting them ready for this and now she wanted them separated? It made little sense as a strategy.

“I’ll go.” Killian took a step forward. “I’m familiar with the area, and I know Brian pretty well I think. If anyone can take him into custody it’s me.”

“Killian no way, this is obviously a sneak mission, there’s no reason for you to be putting yourself in danger!” Carey interjected.

“Speak for yourself, I said I’d go and I’ll go. Just make sure you finish that sweater while I’m gone, it’s going to get cold soon! You need to stay bundled.” 

“That sweater is for you ya big doofus!”

“Ladies. Please.” Lucretia interrupted the back and forth of a conversation that had completely run away from her. “Killian volunteered first, she’s going. Boyland, I trust you have the utmost confidence in your teammate?”

Boyland let out a heavy sigh. He wished he had the foresight to volunteer first. Of course he knew Killian could handle herself, still the pair were like his own daughters and sending them out alone hurt his heart.

“You know I do, Madame Director.” he said, lighting a cigar.

“Boyland we discu-”

“Yeah yeah.” He blew the smoke away from the others and made his way out. His mind was reeling. From the beginning he thought he was brought on because of his skill with an axe and ability to take more than enough blows. Now Lucy had the opportunity to use him for what he did best, and she sends out one of his kids. It felt...morbid.

 

Boyland did make it to the send off in time but was almost late. He decided at the last minute to bring a gift: a dozen donuts. Killian grabbed a chocolate sprinkle and shoved it in her mouth, thanking him as she started to make her way into the cannonball. 

“Wait!” Carey yelled, making her stop halfway. She wrapped her arms around Killian’s neck and buried her face in her shoulder. “Just please please please be careful ok? Remember what I told you about mimics and booby traps and what different colored smoke bombs do and-”

“Hey hey, don’t worry, I remember everything, it’s going to be fine!” Killian returned the hug and smiled, that same blush returning to her cheeks. “Is that sweater you’ve been working on really for me?” she asked.

“Y-yeah,” Carey sniffled into Killian’s shoulder. “It’s...gonna have a big duck in the middle.” Killian held her tighter. 

“Betcha I can make it back before you finish it!” Killian teased. Carey pulled herself back and wiped the tears from her face.

“You’ve got a bet.”

The two shared a short moment looking in each other’s eyes before breaking their embrace. Boyland offered Carey a jelly filled cronut which she gladly accepted and nibbled on as she watched Killian depart. Boyland handed the rest over to Avi who was taken aback at the generosity. The boy was always so endearing like that. He could feel the heaviness in his chest begin to lift. He had full confidence in Killian and knew she’d make it back. As the cannon ball disappeared from sight, he gave Carey a pat on the arm.

“Clock’s ticking kid, better get to it.” Carey seemed to snap out of a trance and started sprinting back to their dorm. Boyland counted himself an incredibly lucky man this day. Not everyone gets to watch true love unfold between two friends right in front of them like that.

 

 

Boyland found himself alone for the first time in a long time. He had gotten himself separated from the other regulators and this dang full body suit wasn’t helping his already piss poor navigation skills. He was sure he had already turned into this room but he couldn’t recognize that particular microscope. Maybe he was just frustrated and letting the events of the night get to his head. Lucas was an obnoxious little punk and no one denied that but dangit, he was still Maureen’s baby boy and he was taking no pleasure in this mission. On top of all that he finally gets to meet the big damn heroes who have already brought in three of the artifacts, and they didn’t even know his name. Boyland felt beside himself, sure they earned the respect they had here but rude people just got under his skin. 

A cigar would help. They always helped clear his head. He started lighting one up before noticing all the seemingly delicate equipment surrounding him. He thought better of filling it all with smoke, no matter how quality he considered it to be, and opened a window to lean out. 

He almost instantly understood his error. A small crystal barely a fleck in size fell from the sky and landed on his cheek. Like a pink snowflake, it sat there for a moment before taking hold. They say when you know you’re about to die your life flashes before your eyes. Boyland learned it’s something like that, but it wasn’t like watching it happen all over again. It was feeling it. He felt his heart fill with the sorrow of war, the honor of his comrades, the undying loyalty he felt for Lucretia. It all began folding over into falling in love, again and again he felt it, and the smothering happiness of fatherhood he was privileged enough to experience 412 times. He felt the ease of vacations at the lake, building snow dwarves after storms, and holding his partner close under layers of quilted blankets. Boyland felt all over the calming realization of knowing your team had your back and knowing you also had theirs. He remembered the giddy youthfulness he felt while helping Killian pick an outfit for her first date. Teaching Carey how to dip her partner in a dance. Listening to Johann play the sweetest melody and watching Avi’s grease covered face light up when he came in every morning with his favorite doughnuts. 

As the crystal plague neared completion in consuming him, Boyland managed one long last draw from the cigar in his mouth and closed his eyes.

“Worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Spent all day with a nasty head cold lads, couldn't work couldn't sleep, so you get 7 pages of ramblings on Boyland lads hope it was coherent!
> 
> @pandalots on twitter


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